


Banana Pancakes

by ronans



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Breakfast Food, Fluff, M/M, Mickey's Beard, Morning After, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:00:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After successfully escaping a one night stand completely unscathed, Ian doesn't expect to gain a new breakfast buddy.<br/>Or, 'we met each other on a Sunday morning, both doing our walk of shame' AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Banana Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so listen to Banana Pancakes by Jack Johnson okay and just think about Ian and Mickey spending lazy mornings together not wanting to get up and not caring about their responsibilities and stuff... I didn't write a fic about that but you can imagine it, right? And they're happy!

Ian winces as a floorboard creaks under his foot. There’s the sound of a weak snuffle behind him and sheets moving, but there’s nothing more than that. Thank fuck the guy hasn’t woken up. He gasps out a relieved breath and then darts his gaze around the room. He hadn’t exactly paid attention to where he was flinging his clothes last night, but he seriously regrets not taking the time to at least aim in one vague area.

As stealthily as he can, he manages to collect up his clothing and one shoe, but he can’t for the life of him remember where he put the other one. Fuck it, he already knows he looks like shit and everyone’s going to just assume that he’s doing a walk of shame, he may as well go all out. He quickly zips up his jeans and yanks on his undershirt but opts to carry the one he’d been wearing over it. Ian pats down his pockets for his wallet, phone and keys and then leaves as quickly as possible. Really, he hadn’t even meant to fall asleep here, but he’s been so strung out recently that he hadn’t been able to stay awake.

He blindly makes his way to the front door of the apartment, partly because he’s closing his eyes due to anxiousness over the man in the bed waking up, partly because he has no idea how the fuck he’s supposed to navigate through this maze of a floor plan. The door just happens to be on the creakiest fucking hinges he’s ever witnessed, but he figures the guy he’d bedded (and he can barely even remember what he looks like, let alone his name he’d been so trashed) last night must be either deathly hungover or just an extremely deep sleeper. As soon as it closes, Ian jumps because the apartment door directly opposite him starts to crack open. He tiptoes as fast as he can down the hall because the less people who see him like this the better, and he really doesn’t need judgement right now, but he stops when he hears the person quietly curse.

‘Fuck.’

Ian gradually turns around to look back the way he came and watches as the man who’d emerged try to literally scratch at the door. He snickers at the sight because how many times is he going to get to watch a desperate man scratch his nails down a door to try and get back inside an apartment in his life? But apparently the universe hates him and he laughed too loud and now he’s looking straight at him. He’s got really pretty blue eyes but they look like they spawn winter storms rather than a pleasant summer’s day, and, yeah, Ian’s also just noticed the knuckle tattoos.

‘The fuck’re you looking at?’ he hisses. Ian’s eyes widen and he shuffles his feet for a second before ultimately deciding to just make his way over.

‘Did you leave your keys inside?’ Ian asks.

He gulps and looks awkwardly to the side, avoiding eye contact. Ian tilts his head curiously before he takes in the guy’s appearance fully.

Ian then has the gall to smirk and nod at the stranger’s rumpled attire. ‘Doin’ the walk of shame?’

Eyebrows lift, expression looks murderous, but Ian still keeps on smiling. ‘Uh, isn’t that exactly what the fuck you’re doing?’ Ian lifts a shoulder because he’s not going to deny it, he just finds the situation pretty funny. ‘And hey, at least I’m wearing two fucking shoes Mr One Combat Boot Wonder.’

Ian looks down at his feet and bites his lip to tame his smile. It really is pretty pathetic. He even has a hole in his lone exposed sock. When he glances back up, he shrugs, and apparently the gesture is so comical to the guy that he starts laughing and nodding at the same time.

‘Okay, if it’ll make you wipe that fuckin’ look off your face, I’ll go one shoe-d as well.’

‘Oh my god.’

‘I’m serious, I can’t be dealing with your dopey smiling shit, now we both look like we’re homeless.’

‘If you thought this would make me smile less, you’re so wrong. Are you still drunk?’ Ian says in wonder as the other man crouches down and unties his left shoe. ‘Anyway, you look more homeless than me with that beard thing you’ve got going on.’

‘Fuck you.’

Ian runs his hand through his curls and chuckles. ‘I, uh, think the guy back there already did.’

He raises his eyebrows and glances up at Ian as he jimmies his shoe off. As he slowly stands back up, Ian thinks he probably should have been more cautious with his wording, maybe he should have stuck to a more gender neutral address.

‘He a good lay?’ was the last thing Ian expected to leave the man’s mouth.

Ian bursts out with a shocked laugh and then answers with a mild grimace. ‘He was okay.’ He pauses for a moment, watching the darker haired man’s shoe swing back and forth slightly as he grips the laces. ‘What about you?’

He mimics Ian with mirth in his eyes, ‘He was okay.’ Ian’s open mouthed for a little too long and it starts to get awkward. There’s a long sigh and then suddenly there’s a reluctant outstretched hand. ‘I’m Mickey.’

Ian shakes his head and beams with what he hopes is his usual winning smile, but it’s kind of hard to show it when he’s desperately trying to concentrate on his stomach not rolling too much as he returns the handshake. ‘Ian.’

‘’Sup.’

Ian snorts and ruffles his fingers through his hair, messing it up more. He exhales sharply and decides that his need for food is now entirely outweighing the need for small talk with Mickey. He doesn’t want to completely end this conversation yet, though.

‘So… I’m really hungover… Wanna go get breakfast?’

Mickey rolls his eyes and chuckles. ‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Yeah?’ Ian grins and scrunches up his over shirt into a tighter bunch.

Mickey nods and then his expression immediately drops. ‘Aw, fuck, I can’t.’

Ian draws his eyebrows together and he really can’t understand this sinking feeling he’s got in his stomach at the prospect of not getting breakfast with Mickey. ‘What? Why?’

Mickey points at the door behind him, the one he’d previously been pitifully scratching at. ‘Left my wallet in there.’

Ian rolls his eyes and waves him off. ‘I’ll pay for it. I insulted your beard, I think that deserves breakfast on me.’

Mickey stares at him for a little while before huffing and rubbing absently at the hair on his face. ‘Sorta like a gross date.’

Ian leans his head back as he starts to walk down the hall. ‘Why’s it gross?’ he intones when he looks back at Mickey.

‘’Cause we’ve probably both still got some dude’s spunk on us and I can tell that’s not your cologne.’

Ian presses his body briefly against Mickey’s in what he’d attempted to play off as a casual nudge. Mickey just gives him a weird look and carries on moving while Ian’s internally punching himself in the face. He clears his throat and smiles lopsidedly. ‘Think I’ve probably got some body glitter on me on top of all that, too.’

Another weird look later and Ian’s learned to keep his mouth shut. He’s not completely burned all ease between them, however, because when they leave the building and Mickey lights up a cigarette, he immediately offers it to Ian. He’s not happy about sharing a cigarette with someone as good-looking as Mickey, he’s pretty sure that’s his hangover talking. He’s still drunk. He’s still malleable under strange emotions. That’s his explanation.

They wind up at the closest diner to the apartment block, and Ian doesn’t really know how Mickey located one so quickly unless the assumed one night stand is actually a fuck buddy of whom Mickey visits on the regular. Then again, someone wouldn’t be so panicked about forgetting their wallet at a fuck buddy’s house because it would be easy to get it back. Ian’s thinking too much into this, he should just enjoy having breakfast with Mickey before they inevitably part ways.

The booth they pick is near the back of the diner and Ian doesn’t know why he’s excited about the privacy that brings. He shouldn’t really be anticipating this meal in a good way because from all angles, it’s going badly. They both slept with other people last night and Ian’s usually good conversation skills have fallen entirely flat from the dead reaction he’d received on Mickey’s end.

‘Why’re you squinting at me?’

Ian blinks and purses his lips. ‘Uh, no reason.’ He draws up the menu on the table to hide behind it, and he thinks he hears Mickey chuckle at the action but he can’t be sure. A few minutes pass before the odd silence is interrupted.

‘Hey, what can I get you?’ a woman asks as she sidles up to their booth. Ian realises he can’t hide from guys he finds attractive behind a laminated menu forever, and lowers it to speak.

‘Banana pancakes and coffee,’ they say at the exact same time. They lock eyes and Ian really does not understand how to read the air between them.

‘Black coffee?’

They nod in unison and the waitress smiles before strolling back to the front counter.

‘I’m not cool with this fuckin’ weird mind meld we’ve got going on here.’

Ian cocks his head and starts to fold his napkin up. ‘Maybe we’re long lost twins.’

‘Okay this is definitely gettin’ classed as a gross date,’ Mickey mutters as he shoves his menu back in its holder.

‘You keep calling it a date,’ Ian says, grinning. Mickey’s cheeks heat and he glares over at Ian.

‘Fuck you, what the fuck else am I supposed to call it?’

‘Pancakes between friends,’ Ian’s eyes follow the waitress as she returns with two mugs and a pot of coffee. ‘Thanks. Two guys who fucked other guys last night-‘

‘Yeah, okay.’

Ian can’t help but be endeared at how grumpy Mickey’s become, but he decides to clear everything up as soon as the, now pretty scandalised, waitress leaves the table again. ‘Sure, it’s a date.’

Mickey pointedly gives him the middle finger and narrows his eyes as he stares out of the window next to them.

‘I invited you, and I’m pay-‘

‘I fuckin’ heard you the first time, holy shit,’ Mickey grumbles, looking back at Ian. He seems a little shocked that Ian still looks content to be here.

‘Here you go!’ the woman who’d been serving them announces, setting their plates in front of them. ‘Enjoy your breakfast.’

‘Thanks,’ Mickey forces out this time. He roughly drags the plate closer to him and Ian watches in fascination as Mickey nabs the syrup bottle and entirely drenches his food in it.

‘Jesus, do you want any pancakes with your syrup?’ Ian eyes Mickey’s swimming plate warily.

Mickey transfers his first bite all into one cheek and raises his eyebrows, picking up the syrup dispenser again. ‘You want any syrup with your pancakes?’

‘Your comebacks are shit,’ Ian titters, cutting into his breakfast.

‘Your judgey, whiney comments are shit, asshole,’ Mickey shoots back, unbothered.

He points at Mickey’s face and says, ‘You’ve got a little bit of syrup in your beard.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Okay,’ Ian sniggers, ducking his head as he chews on his food, coughing slightly when Mickey lets out a pleased little hum.

‘I could live off banana pancakes, man,’ Mickey sighs as he shovels another bite into his mouth. Ian smiles softly at him and then swallows a sip of coffee.

‘My sister makes the best pancakes, you should try them someday,’ Ian says without really thinking. He nearly chokes on his drink when his brain catches up with his tongue.

Surprisingly, Mickey looks like he’s actually pondering this rather than rejecting it, which is what Ian had instantly assumed he’d do. But then again, Mickey’s surprised him from the get go.

‘Fuck it, I’m there.’

Ian can’t count how many times they’ve had breakfast together since.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this was really terrible, I... don't really know  
> [~Tumblr~](http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com)


End file.
